


Perfect

by Sashaya



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Marriage Proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2019-01-26 16:04:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12561060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sashaya/pseuds/Sashaya
Summary: The more you wish for something to be perfect, the less it will be.Cecil messes up, but everything has to be perfect in the end. Right?





	Perfect

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Esmerlight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esmerlight/gifts).



> **_Disclaimer:_** _I don't own any of the characters._
> 
>  **Warning** : Un-beta'ed work. If I made mistakes and you cannot live without telling me about it, message me at [SharkTofu](http://sharktofu.tumblr.com).

It has to be perfect. There’s no margin for mistakes, because Carlos is a scientist – they don’t make mistakes!

At least, that’s what the government says. Not that they acknowledge they have scientists. Or that they fund any research. But if they did have research and scientists, they would never make any mistakes, because it’s not how they work!

So it has to be perfect.

More perfect than Carlos himself. 

Somehow.

Oh, this is going to be a disaster. Disaster. With a capital “D”. 

How can he create something better than Carlos? Carlos is the definition of perfection, the pinnacle of all that is good and wonderful, and perfect. 

He made a mistake. Carlos is… he’s just too Carlos, he can’t help himself. He just wants, desires, needs Carlos in his life. 

He wants Carlos to become his home. For now and forever, and even longer. Longer than he’s ever lived. 

This is big, mind-blowing, terrifying. It has to be perfect.

“Cecil,” the Faceless Old Woman clicks her not-tongue in distaste. “Please refrain from rambling and at least try to panic in an orderly manner. It’s below you.”

Cecil doesn’t turn to face her. What would be the point of facing a faceless being? And one that always appear behind your back? Pure waste of time. Waste of time he cannot afford right now, because _everything has to be perfect_.

“Yes, of course. Apologies,” Cecil runs a hand through his light hair, brushing the stray strands from his ever-open third eye in the centre of his forehead. It doesn’t even blink, keeps it violet iris staring south-east – where Carlos’ lab is situated. 

His breathing is quick and shallow, and he almost hopes Steve Carlsberg would come over, so Cecil could release some of his pent-up energy on him. A stray, insistent thought makes him glance at the phone, but he dismisses it quickly. 

He has no time. It has to be perfect. 

Carlos is going to be home soon!

The third eye moves and the iris seems to be slowly following someone’s movement in the distance. 

Cecil feels a warm breath on the back of his neck and delicate, freezing-cold fingers caress his cheek. 

“Breathe, Cecil. Humans seem to do this now, I’m sure it won’t hurt you. Much,” she whispers in his ear and Cecil lets out a breath, he wasn’t aware he was holding. 

“Maybe it’s a mistake? Why would he say yes? He’s… he’s perfect, he’s…”

“He’s human,” the Faceless Old Woman sighs. She sounds tired with the whole situation, but also curious. “He’s human and they tend to make mistakes. He will say yes.”

“Well…,” Cecil feels he should protest on his boyfriend’s part, but the words are stuck in his throat. Carlos is amazing and so, so smart, but at the same time… he believes in mountains and other weird things. Funny, smart Carlos…

“Do not mess this up, Cecil,” the Faceless Old Woman hisses into his right ear. “He’s by the door and you will welcome him with a smile. Do something with your face, so it doesn’t look like… this.”

“Helpful,” Cecil mutters under his breath, but takes her advice to heart. He closes his third eye, slows down the beating of his heart so it won’t beat over Carlos’ voice, and stretches his mouth in a smile Carlos once called ‘Cheshire’. Whatever that was. 

Oh, how he loves this man.

“I’m home, darling!” Carlos shouts over the sound of closing door. 

Cecil doesn’t move. He stares down the hallway, imagines Carlos humming lightly to himself, while putting on his favorite purple slippers. He imagines Carlos putting the blue jacket and the white lab coat on the rack. Maybe dust off the left sleeve, where some geological residue stayed forgotten all day. 

Cecil hears Carlos’ soft footsteps, muffled by the slippers and the warm-orange carpet that suddenly appeared a few weeks ago. Cecil suspects the Faceless Old Woman ordered it, Carlos blames Abby and Janice. 

Carlos’ sighs heavily, tired from another whole day spent in the lab without a break. Cecil was busy this time, so he didn’t drag his boyfriend to the diner or a picnic. Tomorrow he will.

 _Twice_ , Cecil promises quietly. 

It isn’t difficult to imagine Carlos running a hand through his beautiful, soft dark hair, artistically peppered with gray strands, mostly on his temples. It’s not difficult to imagine Carlos’ dark eyes, barely opened, maybe a little red, with shadows under them. Shadows that would look awful on anyone else, but they add beauty and character to Carlos. It isn’t difficult to recall the morning memory of Carlos’ salt-and-pepper stubble, that he is probably rubbing right now. 

It isn’t difficult to imagine welcoming him like this for the rest of their lives. 

“Welcome home, love,” Cecil says in a deep, loving voice, when Carlos walks into the kitchen. 

The scientist seems surprised, but his shocked expression quickly morphs into a fond one. 

“I wasn’t sure you were home, Cece,” Carlos stops closer and reaches for Cecil, who melts into the embrace. He leans in to taste Carlos’ lips, soaking up the warmth of Carlos’ unsurprisingly well-built body. Carlos taste of lavender and honey, and Cecil chases the taste for the second kiss. “I missed you today.”

“I missed you too,” Cecil presses his lips to Carlos’ forehead, soft and careful like he’s dealing with porcelain. “I made you something.”

“Really?” Carlos smiles widely, showing off two rows of perfect, white teeth. His eyebrows are lightly raised, his dark eyes sparkling with curiosity. 

“Yes. I think this turned out better than the shrimp,” Cecil jokes. His lower lip trembles slightly, when he smiles. 

Carlos doesn’t miss it. He reaches towards Cecil’s face and delicately touches his cheek. Cecil leans into the touch and stares right into Carlos’ bottomless eyes. 

“What’s wrong, my honey-voiced honey?” Carlos asks in a whisper, like he’s afraid of spooking Cecil. 

The light-haired man reaches his breaking point and swallows loudly. 

“Nothing,” he promises, but Carlos keeps staring, unconvinced and worried. He looks like the Greek statues probably do, the ones that Carlos loves to talk about, while they lie naked in the bed, with moonlight on their faces and Carlos’ hand shyly caressing Cecil’s hip. “Just… wait here? I will be back in a second.”

Cecil reluctantly escapes his lover’s arms and disappears in the little room next to the kitchen. They decided it would be their study, but somehow mostly Cecil works there on new programs and news. Though, Carlos can sometimes be found there, while Cecil works – sleeping and soft, and under the woolen blanket, with the Dog by his feet. 

Cecil leans on the wall and takes a deep breath. 

_Why am I such a mess?_ , he thinks, annoyed with himself and for making his perfect scientist worry. 

“Because you’re human. Part-human,” the Faceless Old Woman adds, when Cecil looks like he wants to correct her. “Just go, you are not a coward, Cecil Gershwin Palmer. Don’t start acting like one,” she huffs, displeased and clearly irked. He can’t say for sure, but it feels like she disappeared from the room. 

“You’re right,” he nods, doesn’t question how she knows his full name, while he rarely remembers it. 

It’s not important now. Carlos is – worried and perfect, and loving Carlos, standing perplexed in the kitchen in his purple slippers. 

Cecil quickly grabs the red, velvet little box on the desk, and almost drops it. He catches it in the last moment and chuckles quietly to himself. The nerves are going to kill him. 

“Honey?” Carlos’ voice is laced with so much worry, Cecil can’t help, but feel guilty. What must be going through his perfect lover’s mind right now?

“I’m coming!” Cecil shouts and nearly sprints back into the kitchen. He doesn’t slow down early enough and crashes into the doorway. 

“Are you okay?” Carlos sounds panicked, when Cecil stays on the floor and doesn’t get up. He rushes to Cecil’s side, but the radio host stops him with a raised hand. 

“I already messed it up,” Cecil whispers, sounding like he’s about to cry.

Carlos kneels down, but doesn’t try to touch Cecil again, though his fingers twitch by his side. 

“Come one, my caramel-voiced Cecil,” he speaks softly, still warm and loving, but with bitter worried notes. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing was wrong! I had everything planned and now I messed it all up!”

“It’s okay, Cece. Do you want to try again, then?”

“No,” Cecil finally lifts up his face and stares right into Carlos’ endless eyes. He raises a bit and switches his position so he’s now kneeling before a crouched Carlos. “I want you to know in what mess you’re getting in.”

“Cece…”

“Hush, sweetheart,” Cecil smiles and presents Carlos with the little red box. He opens it slowly and a simple white-gold band is revealed. Carlos gasps, presses his left hand to his lips. His eyes are glued to Cecil’s face. “The moment I saw you, I knew I couldn’t live without you. It’s been years since our first meeting, since our first date and I was right. I can’t even imagine a world, where I don’t wake up next to you. I cannot stand the thought of never seeing your prefect smile or hearing your perfect voice like caramel with oaky tones on the phone. Carlos, my perfect and wonderful Carlos. I fell in love with you the second I saw you and I cannot imagine a world, where I cannot call you my home.”

There’s a second of silence, when Cecil takes a deep, shaky breath.

“Carlos, will you marry me?”

Carlos’ smile is so wide, it looks like it could split his face in half. He leans in and kisses Cecil softly.

“Before I answer – please don’t panic – let me get something,” he says, while standing up. Cecil nods dumbly and follows Carlos with his eyes, as the scientist moves towards the counter and reaches towards the highest shelf. He has to stand up on his tip toes to reach it, making his gray shirt ride up and showing his lower back. 

He finally moves back to Cecil, with a little, sky-blue box in his hand. He drops on one knee before a kneeling Cecil, still smiling widely.

“Cece, my honey-voiced honey. When I moved here, you were a constant, bright light that allowed me to let go of my past and find a place for myself in Night Vale. Without you, I doubt I could survive a week here. You became my reason to wake up, my reason to keep going and live. Everything I accomplished here was partly for you, so I could see your awe or your disbelief. I found myself wanting to see all your faces, see all the secrets you will let me. I hated the Desert World, because you weren’t there and no scientific discovery could compensate me the absence in my bed, in my ear, in my life. I cannot live without you and without making you my home. Cecil Palmer, will you marry me?”

There’s a stunned silence between them, while the men eye each other. The silence should be heavy, expecting, but the words that tumble from their mouths are just a formality.

“Yes,” they say in unison, joy and love almost tangible in their voices. 

Cecil grabs Carlos by his collar and pulls him in. The scientist loses his balance and comes crushing down on Cecil, as they both laugh.

“I love you,” Cecil whispers against Carlos’ lips.

“And I love you too,” Carlos replies softly, leaning in and connecting their lips in a long, deep kiss. 

“Humans,” the Faceless Old Woman huffs from behind them, her voice also laced with happiness for her favorite beings.

They laugh, breathless and happy, and so, so in love.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a consequence of my writer block and my sudden hatred towards my writing. I decided to try and write more - especially single scenes - to better my writing. I might write more in this fandom (again), because it's such an easy pairing to write. 
> 
> I love comments, they give me even more reason to write than kudos. So please, leave a comment on your way out!


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